Research
by Seoinage
Summary: [HMC] As with all things once he's put his mind to it, that is, Howl enjoys his research a little too much. Especially when he gets to stage a real life demonstration of what he's learned to Sophie. This oneshot takes place between HMC and CitA. [COMPLETE


**Title:** Research  
**Author:** Seoinage  
**Fandom:** Howl's Moving Castle / Castle in the Air  
**Genre:** General, Humor  
**Rating:** K  
**Disclaimer:** HMC and CitA © Diana Wynne Jones and any other companies who has various rights to them.  
**Dedicated to:** Kenbu at LiveJournal for her 16th birthday because without such, this fic wouldn't exist. :)

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_In which a great celebration was planned_  
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Laden and preoccupied as she was with the fruits of her shopping in town today, Sophie reached the dining table before she realized something had occurred during her time away. She had hoped to set her heavy burden down and then get a refreshing drink of water, but found it nigh unto impossible. Though this morning's cleaning had been performed meticulously as usual, leaving every surface sparkling and clear of clutter, the previously immaculate and _empty_ tabletop was now groaning under an abundance of items.

"Howl Jenkins! What is going on here?" The frazzled woman exclaimed even as she huffed and puffed her way over to the kitchen sink where she spied some counter space. Tottering dangerously while trying not to drop anything, she muttered under her breath the entire way about _irresponsible wizards who abuse their powers and waste perfectly good daylight hours that could be put towards better uses, like actually working._

Cackling, the fire spirit in the grate snatched another log up to munch on, asking, "What, Sophie, you don't like the new decorations? Howl's really outdone himself this time."

As if the mere sound of his name spoken in conjunction with any form of praise – however loose that term may be – conjured him, the dashing blond swept into the room resplendent in his blue robes and accented by beauty spells and a mix of fragrant perfumes. "Sophie! Come take a look at this! It's been prepared perfectly and exactly to what I'd envisioned. Isn't it marvelous, spectacular, stupendous?" Arms outspread and poised dramatically to show off his best profile, Howl sent an expectant look towards her that fairly screamed his magnificence.

Sophie deliberately ignored the posturing in favor of making sure that none of the packages would tumble down to make a mess. She did not want to have to clean that up since it seemed like she may have a bigger project to tackle shortly. Instead, she sent her response towards Calcifer. "And what were you doing while all this nonsense was going on? I hope that you didn't encourage him in this silliness!"

Mouth full of wood, the flame shot purplish-orange sparks as two tendrils imitated a shrug. Devilish eyes watched her mischievously. Now that he was no longer bound to Howl and the castle, Calcifer quite enjoyed watching the drama-happenings that occurred (and occurred frequently), since he could escape when he wanted. "You know how he gets when he's got an idea."

Harrumphing at that, Sophie turned back around to face the man standing in the middle of the room, slowly taking in all the red and gold adorning every inch of every wall. There were even dangly things sparkling from between each of the railings of the stairs! An eyebrow arched up at the sight of balloons and streamers, all very colorful, cheerful, and overlaid on top of the red and gold. If she did not know any better, she would have thought him color blind. "Mr. Jenkins, please explain why my beautifully _cleaned_ house looks like a…," she sputtered, becoming more incensed with each word spoken even though she promised to herself she would not, "…A circus!"

Not expecting that reaction, a pout pulled down the corners of his lips. "Come now, my girl. Surely you can see how the entire room is lit with a positively celebratory atmosphere! I did some research and know for sure I've got all the details right. Well, the balloons and streamers were just a touch I'd thought to add – some fond memories after all – but I must say it goes well with the cakes and party favors." A pleased gleam twinkled in his grass green eyes.

Indeed there were multiple cakes. Some were single-layered while others were multi-layered, all twinkling with a single lighted candle each. Every layer had generous colored frosting, with not one color duplicated by another. Somehow, the rainbow of sugary desserts matched the mish mashed collection of party favors and décor. In the back of her head, Sophie wondered if Howl had ensorcelled the candles so as to have them stay lit without burning themselves down to nubbins. Crossing her arms in front of her, she irritably tapped her booted foot against the floor. "Alright, out with it. What is it this time?"

His enthusiasm wilted a little under her piercing gaze, but returned in full force. "Well, as I was saying, I've been doing some research. Did you know that in a certain culture, we are all born being a year old! Isn't that amazing? It's like having a head start, though only some of us can make use of such a fact. And to recognize it, as well as to celebrate our own head start…" He drifted closer, daring to breach her defenses and prickliness, buttery voice saying, "…And the loveliness of my wife, I thought a bit of a celebration was in order."

Unable to help herself, she softened a little inside, enough to where she allowed him to place his warm hands on her shoulders to pull them closer together. Still, "Howl, you can't continue doing this every time some new research of yours reveals another birthday custom! This is getting ridiculous and highly expensive. We've had three other birthday parties already, and the baby's not yet even born! And besides, we're going to get fat from all these cakes and you know you won't stand for your looks to be ruined." Perhaps appealing to his vanity would work.

Trailing his palms down her arms to take her hands in his to uncross them, the wizard beamed at her before kneeling down – keeping care to not crush his robes, of course – to wrap his arms around his wife's gently burgeoning midriff. Pressing his cheek to the rounded warmth, he then whispered tenderly, "Happy birthday, baby."  
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Happy birthday, Peradis! 

Constructive comments and critiques are welcomed and adored.


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